


Ask Nicely

by chiarascura



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Dirty Talk, Dom/sub Undertones, Dragon Age Kink Meme, F/M, Pegging
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-30
Updated: 2015-11-30
Packaged: 2018-05-04 04:02:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5319722
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiarascura/pseuds/chiarascura
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Bela. Can you… I want… Er,” he felt his face turn red.</p><p>“Say it.” She smirked up at him, probably knowing what he wanted but making him speak through the embarrassment anyway. </p><p>“I want you to fuck me.” His whole face flamed, and probably his neck and ears too judging by the heat they gave off. </p><p>Isabela sat up, bringing him to his knees above her. “Ask nicely.”</p><p>“Please, Isabela, please fuck me.” He tried to keep the whine out of his voice. He didn’t think he succeeded.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ask Nicely

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the DA Kink Meme
> 
> Isabela pegs Carver  
> +dirty-talk and dom!Isabela
> 
> http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/15195.html?thread=60111707#t60111707

Even as he took the sixth shot, Carver knew this was a terrible idea. It started out just as one shot to bolster his courage, but as it usually happened with Isabela, things rapidly spun out of his control. 

She sat across from him, smirking as his head drooped slightly and his eyes slowly focused on her. The little gold stud in her bottom lip glinted at him in the dim light of the Hanged Man. They currently sat in Varric’s suite, playing Wicked Grace and drinking. Her tongue flicked out of her mouth to slowly lick her lower lip, and Carver felt blood begin to pool in his groin. 

Empty cups sat on the table between them, and Isabela shuffled the cards without taking her eyes from him. Carver realized his jaw was hanging open, and he snapped it shut with a click. 

Varric sat beside them, regaling Sebastian with increasingly outrageous stories. His chatter was a distant noise in the background, and Carver found his attention drawn from the men every time he tried to listen to them. 

Maker, this was a terrible idea. He palmed his face, wiping the beads of sweat from his temples. He had only come here to see her, to ask her… He shook his head, as if that would clear the alcohol and lust haze currently settling in his brain. 

He met Isabela’s eyes, and the bright gleam in them made him alert once again. She stood and stretched, drawing his eyes to her impressive bosom as they moved underneath her shirt. “Well, boys, I think I’m tired of taking your money for the moment.” When she put her hands on her hips and his eyes lifted to her face, the knowing smirk made the blood rush to his face, then run south. 

Carver realized his mouth was slightly open again, so he shut it and swallowed. She said something as a goodbye, but his lewd thoughts distracted him enough to miss them. He followed her exit with his eyes. The swing of her hips and her round ass kept his attention like nothing else had that night. 

She left Varric’s suite, and he waited for less than ten heartbeats before he stood as well. Varric rolled his eyes and waved his hand absentmindedly, not looking away from Sebastian. “Go follow her, Junior.”

Carver’s hand rose to rub the back of his neck as he made a speedy exit. Isabela waited for him in the hallway, leaning against a wall and picking at her fingernails with one of her daggers. His footsteps brought her eyes up and she smirked again. His eyes focused instantly on her full mouth, and the memory of how they felt on his brought his erection to almost painful hardness.

He stood in front of her, and she pulled on his shirt front, dragging him towards her room. “Come on, puppy.” She slipped the dagger back into her clothes somewhere, but Carver never knew where she stashed all of her weapons in her skimpy clothing. The danger of it all thrilled him, and she knew it.

He closed the door behind them, and she literally jumped into his arms. He staggered into the door as his hands gripped below her thighs, holding her against his chest and leaning their weight on the wood behind them. Their mouths crushed together, and he felt her tongue slip into his mouth smoothly. He groaned deep in his chest, and couldn’t help grinding his hips against her core. 

“To the bed,” she said into his mouth, finally pulling away. He complied, walking them both over to the flimsy mattress and lay her onto the questionable sheets. He followed her onto his knees, kissing down her neck and chest. She unlaced her shirt for him, and he pressed open-mouthed nips across her huge tits, rubbing his face into the valley between them. She moaned, running one hand through his short hair and the other under his shirt across his shoulder.

Carver gently bit down on one nipple and was rewarded with a loud exhalation from her. He continued down her torso, pulling her shirt and the sash she wore around her waist off her body. He rubbed his nose and mouth on the silky black smallclothes she wore, and heard her satisfied “hmmm” as he circled her clit. 

“Bela, I…” He pulled slightly away and groaned in frustration, resting his forehead on her thigh, breathing heavily. He never was good with words, and asking for something he wanted felt like he was pulling his own teeth out. 

“Carver,” the wanton need in her voice made his cock twitch in his pants. He rose back up, bringing his body to cover her own and pressed their lips together again. 

“Bela. Can you… I want… Er,” he felt his face turn red.

“Say it.” She smirked up at him, probably knowing what he wanted but making him speak through the embarrassment anyway. 

“I want you to fuck me.” His whole face flamed, and probably his neck and ears too judging by the heat they gave off. 

Isabela sat up, bringing him to his knees above her. “Ask nicely.”

“Please, Isabela, please fuck me.” He tried to keep the whine out of his voice. He didn’t think he succeeded.

“Lay face down,” she commanded, and Carver scrambled to obey. His cock grew harder with the steel in her voice. He pressed his face into the cool pillow, trying not to grind his hips into the bed too obviously. The swat on his ass let him know he wasn’t as subtle as he thought. 

He heard her rummaging through the dresser across the room and squirmed in anticipation. The bed dipped near his hips, and she moved to straddle his upper thigh. “Tell me what you want, puppy.” He felt the breath on the back of his neck and her tongue caressed the shell of his ear before moving away. 

He groaned. “I want you to fuck me.” His voice broke as her hands moved over his ass cheeks, spreading them apart. “I want your cock in me.” He felt a slippery finger circle his entrance, teasing. “Fuck, Bela.” 

The wetness between her thighs soaked into the thigh she sat atop, and her lips descended to press an open-mouthed kiss against his shoulder. “You lost so much at Wicked Grace earlier, I don’t think you deserve my cock.” Her finger pressed in barely, stretching his rim and wiggling just enough for him to feel it and need more. 

He grunted breathlessly, hips shifting, seeking out more of her fingers. She made a tut-tut sound. “Naughty boy,” she withdrew her finger and used her free arm to brace his hips. “I should teach you a lesson.” 

With that, she drove her finger in to the second knuckle, punching a groan out of Carver’s chest. The pressure sent another throb into his cock, and he twisted his hands into the sheets. “Grip the headboard,” she ordered, and Carver moved his hands above his head to obey. She set a slow, deep rhythm with her finger. “Tell me how it feels.”

“It’s, oh Maker,” he groaned. He took a couple of deep breaths to try and clear the haze of lust in order to speak. “It’s so good, Bela, I feel, it’s, more, more.” He thought about the power in those hands, how she could snap an enemy’s neck or tenderly caress his face, and his cock twitched against the bed beneath him. 

Her chuckle preceded another finger pushing into him. He wanted so badly to push back into her, to rub himself into the sheets below him, to have Isabela’s hands everywhere on his body. The white knuckles on his hands betrayed the tension in his body.

“That’s right, puppy. Look at you, so ready for my cock.” She finally moved off his body and a shiver ran down his spine. He heard the small jingle of the harness being strapped onto her hips, and whatever blood was left in him moved into his cock, making his erection just this side of painful. He thought about the toy in her hands, the leather oiled up over the wooden phallus underneath, double-ended and probably eased inside of Isabela right now. 

She pulled up on his hips and he followed her guidance into a kneeling position, with his head still down on the pillow. Her hand reached under him to grip his cock firmly. He couldn’t help the jerk of his hips into the circle of her hand, the immense pleasure of the friction he had been waiting for. “Andraste’s tits,” he moaned and heard Isabela’s chuckle. She stroked his cock a few more times before letting go.

One of her small, deft hands gripped his ass cheek, splaying his hole open for her. He felt the blunt tip of her toy press against his entrance. “Whose tits?” she asked, as she teased him with just the tip.

“Your tits, your glorious tits, oh Bela!” His voice turned into a cry as she thrust in, too slowly. He turned his head into the pillow to moan again as she bottomed out. She placed her hand where his neck met his shoulder for leverage, but stayed still for a few moments.

He felt so full, like she was everywhere inside him. His cock throbbed and ached, and he gripped his hands harder against the headboard to keep them from wandering down. The tip of her cock pressed against his prostate, sending jolts of pleasure through his body. “How does it feel?” Her silky voice wobbled just the slightest bit.

“It’s so good, you’re so deep, Bela, fuck, Maker,” he rambled without any thoughts but the fullness in his ass and the pressure against his prostate, sending sparks up his spine again. “Move, please, please, Bela, oh shit…” 

She exhaled, amused at his begging. “That’s right, you’re so full of my cock.” She pressed in just a little deeper, and he whined high in his throat. She slowly eased the toy out, rubbing circles onto his hip with her sticky hand. “On your knees for me, just begging for me to fuck you, to use you.”

“Bela, please.” He felt her knees adjust slightly between his thighs, and the angle inside him changed as she thrust back in, faster. She rocked into him and back out, finally starting a rhythm he could follow. His hips pushed back and they were moving together. He heard the rush of blood in his ears, the thump-thump-thump of the headboard against the wall, Isabela’s harsh breathing and his own small noises each time his prostate felt her cock.

He heard her breathing speed up, and her hand left his hip. “Oh, yes, Carver.” In his mind’s eye, he could see her rubbing circles into her clit inside the harness. “You love this, you feel so good, Maker fuck!”

Finally, she cried out in pleasure and her movements became jerky. After she came down from her orgasm, she leaned over Carver, pressing her breasts into his back. She reached down to fist his cock again, and continued moving steadily inside him. 

At her touch, Carver shouted, and after only a few strokes, he came with a long-drawn out shout and explosions of lights behind his closed eyes. His hips dropped to the bed, and she fell on top of him, her chest pressed to his back and the phallus still inside him. Their heavy breathing eventually synced together, and he felt her clean hand run through his hair. 

She pulled out of him gently and rolled off his back, as he unclenched his fists from the headboard and let them drop, still extended above his head. She stood to unclasp the harness and grab a washcloth from the dresser. Her gentle touch on his sore asshole felt soothing, and she rolled him over to clean the spend from his groin. She threw the washcloth on the floor and crawled into the space next to his body. 

“Maker, Isabela, that was…” Carver wrapped his arm around her and brought her closer, until her head lay in the groove between his shoulder and his chest. He sighed contentedly and felt Isabela chuckle. Her hand stroked over his stomach, feeling the muscles relax underneath.

She ran her hand over the dark lines of his tattoo on his left bicep. “Maybe next time we can make your mabari bark.”


End file.
